Starting tomorrow this is where we’ll be for the next few days. The Dreams Resort in Cancun, Mexico. It’s partly work for Rick and all vacation for me. I’ve been watching the weather forecast which at first it looked a bit shaky, but now it looks as if it will be pretty nice.

I hope to get in lots of beach walks. We also have a few days planned at an eco-friendly (meaning no TV, very little electricity) cabana on the beach in Tulum. We are planning on visiting the Mayan ruins at Tulum, which are uniquely situated on the beach.

I hope to get lots of good photos. Fingers crossed for sunny weather! Until then dear blog readers!

This year we decided to go to the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, celebrating their 75th Anniversary. Inside the lobby, a gorgeous tree made from hundreds of Swarovski crystals hung suspended from the ceiling.

The stars of the show were, of course, The Rockettes—those high-kicking precision experts of dance. They’ve come a long way, baby! (The following photos taken from the program.)

The show was nothing short of spectacular. The sets were magical, the special effects extraordinary. We donned 3-D glasses to watch Santa Claus fly through the sky in his sleigh: first stop New York City. Look, there’s the Empire State Building—quick, duck!—we’re headed straight for it! We even got snowed on at one point in the show. Sheer magic.

The Rockettes appeared in nearly every act. They were reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh; toy soldiers (my favorite!); toy dolls that ended up doing the can-can; tourists on a double-decker tour bus seeing the highlights of the city; Santa Claus; and of course just as themselves. The precision in which they perform is absolutely amazing! They are always right together in everything they do.

For 90 minutes straight we were thoroughly entertained. We both felt like little kids again, taking in the wonder of it all as we sat sipping our Pina Coladas in our commemorative Rockettini™ glasses with festive swizzle sticks.

I know what you’re thinking—you don’t fool me. You’re thinking that they are just about the tackiest, kitschiest things you’ve ever seen, right? Well, just wait till you see what else I got…

Of course no visit to New York City at Christmas would be complete without seeing the tree at Rockefeller Center. All in all, a really great day that put us in the Christmas spirit.

Now, here is my favorite thing from the whole day. I know you’re just dying to know what else could be tackier than the Rockettini™ glasses. Actually, I wanted one of these when I saw them for sale in the lobby but Rick wouldn’t let me buy one. I pouted a bit and when I got home I was still kicking myself for not buying one. Somehow he managed to buy one for me anyway and sneak it into my stocking on Christmas morning. Here she is: my battery powered Rockette! Ta da~ !

Here she is caught in mid-spin.

And now you can watch her in all her full glory!

Come on, you gotta love her! Don’t you want one too?

So take a good look at my face
You see my smile looks out of place
If you look closer it’s easy to trace
The tracks of my tears*

Warm, salty, tears slid down my cheeks and blurred my vision as I pulled out of the driveway at my Mom’s house. Several miles down the Northway I had to remove my sunglasses because my wet lashes were fogging up the lenses. The tears stopped, only to begin again of their own accord over and over again until I reached Albany. After that I put myself on auto-pilot and concentrated instead on the vehicle in front of me: our Suburban pulling a small U-Haul trailer with my Mom’s belongings. My Mom finally rested on the seat beside me making the journey to Jersey like she should have done in August.

My sister and I had a very busy and emotionally charged week. We sorted. We packed. We donated things. We gave things away. We laughed. We cried. We shared family secrets. We swapped old boyfriend stories. We found a few things we had forgotten about. We found some things we never knew existed. We bartered with each other for items we both wanted. By the time our husbands got there on Friday we had made a great deal of progress in clearing out the house. I can’t say I enjoyed the week but I did enjoy getting to know my sister on a different level.

Looking around my Mom’s house just before we left my sister and I noticed how sad and lonely it looked. We had removed everything that had made that house Mom & Dad’s. Gone were the family photographs and my Dad’s paintings that used to hang on the walls; gone were all the knick-knacks collected over the years; gone were her crossword puzzle books and in-progress crochet projects. All gone—it was just a house now and not my Mom’s home. But Mom is gone now too, so I guess that is fitting.

On that last night in her house I couldn’t sleep so I crept outside to the porch. It was crisp and cold. The sky was filled with crystalline stars and even the Milky Way was visible; it was a beautiful night. Not a sound could I hear. I talked to Mom and told her I hoped we were doing the right thing by selling the house. I told her lots of other things too. I hope she heard me because it made me feel better.

It was all so final. It hurts. It’s all about letting go ...

*—THE TRACKS OF MY TEARS (W. Robinson / M. Tarplin / W. Moore)

When we stayed at Andy and Linda’s cabin on Lake Wallenpaupack, PA we did a little antique shopping in nearby Hawley. That was when I saw them. The Indian mugs of my childhood. Memories of sipping sweet, hot cocoa topped with a dollop of Marshmallow Fluff™  drifted up from my subconscious to tickle my brain. I hadn’t thought of those mugs in forever, yet here they were in all their kitschy glory.

The price was a little steep and with much regret I passed them up. After I got home I could not stop thinking about them. They brought back such wonderful memories of my Mom. She always served us hot chocolate in them, and nothing else. I decided I had to have them.

So, I emailed the antique shop and started inquiries with Thom into purchasing them, hopefully at a reduced price. I explained in my email that I had had them as a child and how my Mother (that I had recently lost) always served us hot chocolate in them. That was when I learned they were from the Hazel Atlas Glass Company, a now defunct glass manufacturer in West Virginia, and highly collectible. This particular full set of six were in pristine condition and had hardly, if ever, been used. I didn’t get my hoped-for price reduction, but I did get my mugs.

This past weekend we finally drove back over to Hawley to pick them up. When Thom handed me the box with my mugs he also gave me a small gift bag, saying that it was a little something extra. When I opened the bag I saw six packets of Ghirardelli Double Chocolate Hot Cocoa Mix inside. The tag on the gift bag read: “With my compliments: I hope it’s just like Mom used to make.”

How sweet was that? I have to admit that I could feel the tears welling up and threatening to spill over right there and then, but I managed to check them—only just. Thanks, Thom.  He told me that it meant a lot to him that his things went to people who would care about them. No worries there. Here they are at home:

My sister arrives tomorrow to join me next week in the arduous and nostalgia-filled task of sorting through and packing up our Mom's belongings. I'm sure we will share a cup of cocoa or two as the memories overwhelm us.

For more interesting and detailed information on the Hazel Atlas Glass Company, follow this link.

The Mirage is a lovely hotel. It it weren’t so pricey I would stay there. You can do the following things:

See Siegfried & Roy’s Royal White Tigers.

Marvel at the lush Polynesian gardens under its 90-foot glass-enclosed atrium.

Visit the Dolphin Habitat where a group of Atlantic bottlenose dolphins live. They had a baby, five months old, that we got to observe frolicking around with his Mother. He was too cute but he didn’t hold still long enough for me to take a decent pic.